Crossing Over
by CatalystOfTheSoul
Summary: ANGST DAY NUMERO DOS! Who doesn't love a good, angsty rant?


**Happy New Years and Hapy Angst Day 2! I had fun with this, so I hope you do. Well, fun other than the beggining part...had to force myself to write that.... **

**And now I, CatalystOfTheSoul, present to you; Crossing Over, an Angst Day fiction!**

* * *

**Crossing Over**

* * *

"Sam..." He whispered hoarsely.

"Danny! Danny! Say something!"

That voice...it wasn't Sam. "...Jazz...?"

"No! No Danny, it's me! It's me Beth!" She sobbed, holding Danny in her beautiful porcelain arms, tears overflowing.

"...Am I dying?" He rasped, as Beth tried urgently to heal him.

Beth sputtered desperately. "No! You won't die! I can heal you!"

Danny blinked, his confusion slowly turning into something stronger as he gazed into Beth's love filled eyes, not even caring to notice his blood on her cheeks.

...But he did see his blood on her _lips_.

Danny very suddenly pushed Beth and her healing hands away, ignoring her scream as he kicked furiously for her to move off. Standing, he limped in the other direction, shouting over his shoulder;

"There is no way I am going to die in the hands of a Mary Sue! Who is writing this? WHO?!" Danny yanked at the edges of the story page, peeling back to see a startled face hovering over him.

Danny jumped out of the computer screen, angrily shoving the crazed fan author out of his way. "I am _sick_ of this, you know that?" He asked, deleting the previous pages. "I have a girlfriend. Or have you not heard about her?

"I am _not_ going to live in your little love story, it's great you like me and that you want to 'continue what isn't shown' but this is flat out _wrong_."

The fan girl found her voice, breath clouding because of an astounding temperature drop the room had taken on. "Don't delete that, I worked hard—"

Danny found it in him to laugh bitterly, merrily deleting everything, especially the 'love at first sight' garbage. "You worked hard at destroying my personal life, whisking me away from my family, and then making me commit suicide because I loved your Sue so much my heart was going to be torn out of my chest?"

Danny blinked; glancing down at the desk he was sitting at, and grinned sheepishly at the girl staring up at him from the floor. "Sorry about the blood everywhere, I've deleted that scene, so my wounds have gone. But there's really nothing I can do about the stuff all over me." He shook his head, returning to the screen and typing madly. "See? You shouldn't have made that part so messy, now you're going to have to get blood out of the carpets, and trust me when I say how difficult that is."

"Are you...are you real?" The awed fan girl gasped, seeming to find the fact that one of her favorite characters had just jumped out of her computer unbelievable.

Danny glanced down at the girl, pausing in his frantic typing. He arched an eyebrow, "Nope, the entity spilling blood all over your floor, scolding you for making him fall in love with a Mary Sue—with no _freaking_ say in the matter—and re-typing your so called 'fanfiction' is all just a figment of your imagination."

She blinked, a little slow on the sarcasm. Danny rolled his eyes and continued to talk while clacking away at the keyboard. "I'm not that good of a writer by the way. As you seemed to have mentioned my English grade around seven times in one chapter, you know that too, so if reviewers criticize your work, tell them it wasn't you writing."

He laughed, "Although, from the reviews I've seen, they'd _love_ to have me writing a story on here for them. Or Butch, imagine having him take the time to continue stories in the fandom he created. Ha, just think of how silly he'd have to make the disclaimers to make it so he isn't really saying he doesn't own it, only making it seem that way. Which he doesn't own me, bet you didn't know that."

She shook her head, "You're rambling. But he doesn't?"

Danny smiled, his eyes tracking over a paragraph that didn't feel quite right before sighing and erasing it, trying to write what he wanted to get across in different words. "I'm rambling to keep you confused, any second now you'll either run out screaming, scream and beg me for an autograph, scream and tie me up to shove me in your closet, or scream to get me off of your computer. The longer I talk, the longer I have, and soon enough I'll have a topic you're so interested in those options won't enter your mind till I'm gone—particularly the third one."

Danny cut off the sudden excitement in her eyes, no doubt thinking of getting some rope. "You won't be able to hold me. Not always on this physical plain, remember?" Danny quickly made his hand intangible and shoved through the desk, bringing it back and continuing his typing rhythm.

"Anyway, yes, Butch does not own me. I'm guessing you want to know why." Danny smiled at the very enthusiastic "Yes!" she supplied.

He laughed, "I am here, on your realm, no longer locked inside of a cartoon (although that _was_ fun, so structured)." Danny made a disgusted face. "The real world is so much more unorganized, so messy, and the only reason the good guy always wins here is because the winner always writes history—sure to paint himself as the good guy."

Danny sighed, slowing only a moment before picking up the pace with many misspelled words to fix. "I miss it, a little. The reruns are fun to dip into every now and again, but I already know them so well. There was never really anything like jumping into a new episode, thinking up ready quips and attacking whatever evil the writers had come up with." A sad smile flitted across his lips, "They always kept me thinking on my feet."

The fan girl had crossed her legs, looking like a child paying avid attention, hanging onto every word with wondering eyes wide. "I'm so sorry...but what does this have to do with Butch not owning...this sounds weird. He owns you and you're sitting in my room, I feel like this is some form of slavery."

Danny scoffed. "_You_ were the one dragging me out of character with your Sue. _That_ is slavery, with them I did have a say in things. I had a will; I was allowed to speak my mind." A dark look crossed his face, "First time I had a fanfiction written for me I was happy, ecstatic. Someone was writing about _me_."

He glared, his fingers hitting the keyboard with a little too much force. "Then I met what is known as 'The Mary-Sue'. No one even likes them, and yet they're there. Then I found out what slash was..."

"I've never written slash!" The authoress piped up innocently.

Danny shrugged without comment. "I consider Sue's worse than slash—unless if it is a Gary Sue slash; then I get really ticked. I've actually gotten kind of used to the idea that some minds out there can stand the idea of pairing me with Vlad or some other male character. I don't necessarily like it, but I can stand it."

"How?" She asked, apparently the authoress didn't like slash that much; she seemed off-put by Danny's reluctant acceptance of it.

He snorted, "For one I've never been so absolutely angered by it I walked out of the computer and started re-writing. With slash authors I can walk out of the fiction, most slash fics are rated around 'T' or higher, so I can leave it or go in it whenever I want. I don't even have to look at 'mature' rated things if I don't want to." He flashed a grin at the authoress. "You like to keep it 'K+' or lower. I'm not allowed to leave those when they're remotely in character."

He returned to the screen, pausing in his work. "By the way, I keep referring to you as 'the authoress' or 'the fan girl' what is your name?"

"Nat--or Natalie."

Danny continued typing with vigor. He was silent.

"So why doesn't he own you?"

"Huh?" Danny pulled his mind out from the absorption that accompanied his work. "Oh that—sorry, I lost topic. If he owned me I'd still be in his head. After my 'creation' I was allowed, slowly at first, access to other minds that thought of me. First it was only producers on the team, them my first episode aired, and I could go almost anywhere."

A dreamy look wiggled its way onto Danny's face. "I've been all over the world, catching glimpses of the lives of my fans as they let me into their imaginations. I am one of the lucky ones; I didn't only attract the audience of children, but all ages. I had a wider range than most in my channel, only one show got ahead of me..."

"SpongeBob?"

Danny giggled, "Hardly, that guy gets ratings, sure, but not many people dream up and imagine things about him, write fictions in their heads. He doesn't have enough background, or plot. You need a strong plot background to get far into the imagination."

Natalie's brow furrowed. "I don't get it...who?"

He rolled his eyes, "I'll give you a hint, he's not in the cartoon section. I actually think his group is either the first or one of the first anime/manga classifications on Nick."

She gasped, "Avatar!"

He nodded in approval. "Yup, I knew even though you were writing Sue you hadn't become _completely_ brainless. He had the largest range, I was second, then it was Timmy and Jimmy. Back then they were always competing, one would jump ahead only to be surpassed by the other again.

"They didn't try catching up to me, I was pretty far ahead, and I never tried competing with the Avatar group. Deep characters by the way, I could sit and talk to those guys all day and not get bored. Of course we all had work to get done."

Danny paused, frowning. "I think I was the first to go. I don't remember when the others did—I actually think Timmy almost dropped before I did (he had an exceptionally long life for a cartoon, we all thought he'd be as permanent as the Sponge got) but he was granted another twenty episodes. Lucky kid. I don't remember when the others dropped out; I don't even know if they're all gone. It's hard to run into them, I need a crossover fiction to do that, and still we need down time to talk, if the imagination is constantly active with us or drops the fic we won't be able to communicate beyond a nod or something.

"Parodies help; there is one we all liked to hang out at. We'd talk there when we get to rest—not often during this time of year. I know Aang and his group have dropped, and spectacularly no less. _They_ had plot, I even heard about your people converting it to 'realism', something of a more humanic film, no cartoon." Danny seemed to be brimming with pride at this, as it so rarely happened he was more than happy to cheer them on.

Danny continued to type, content in the silence. "You got off topic." The girl prompted.

"I did?" He shrugged, "I don't get to talk to your people very much, and I have a tendency to rant to any ear willing to listen."

Danny merrily clacked at the computer for a few minutes more, chatting as he went. "The reason is, I belong to everyone who can dream it up. I started in the mind of Butch, sure, and I still go there a lot more often than any other place. But, seeing as I can go in any imagination that invites me (and forced into certain fantictions) I no longer belong to only him. The creators don't know that, they never do."

"Then why are you telling me?" Danny stopped typing, turned around in the chair and smiled fondly at the authoress, actually looking at her for the first time. Young, maybe sixteen, seventeen. A good writer, even if she did write in a Sue-ish way. Danny had to admit to himself at times, he too, was a dreaded Sue. He just had credit.

"I really _am_ dying, Nat."

Natalie didn't seem to comprehend, she looked puzzled, and a little panicked. "I thought you said you can exist in imaginations and..." she trailed off as Danny ran a worried hand through his hair.

"No. I exist in their minds for only so long. I am no longer being aired on the normal channel, and re-runs can only be watched for so long. I'm not in character anymore in the fanfictions, not even in the imaginations I visit. I find that I can go fewer and fewer places every day as people simply loose the spirit to keep me going. I find that even the 'K' rated fanfictions are bared to me, and I can't enter because that isn't me behind those words. It's some weird, guy who accidentally became a half-ghost named Danny.

"I find that I can only visit older fics, the ones where I am truly in character, and even to them, they're getting harder to enter. I'm not as mobile as I used to be, and it's showing. Even Butch has begun to tuck me into a deeper confine of his mind, bringing me out only when provoked, or extremely bored. He has other things running through that big head of his and not much room for me anymore.

"I was in character with you, you're one of the last ones really, and then you bring in that Sue and I find myself being warped, access to your fictions more and more denied, today I just had a feeling...this would be the last day. So I tore myself out of there, saved myself from being kicked out for good and took the one door out that wouldn't be able to drag me back to the inner recesses of Butch's mind, or to some boring and painful character twist of me."

Natalie looked as if someone had slapped her in the face. "I was doing that to you?"

Danny nodded, "Unfortunately."

With nothing else to do, Danny stuck out a hand and helped Natalie to get off the floor. "You feel so...real." She commented, staring at their hands, not willing to let go after standing. Danny intangibly freed his arm, "And you don't look cartoony. You look so...real." She finished.

Danny smiled, taking a step back, "Yes well, I don't come out often, I think this is the third time I've ever done it. Kind of funny too...the other times I never even considered not going back in." Danny glanced at the computer.

The authoress looked at him in utter astonishment, "You aren't going back?!"

Danny walked to her window with a content look to his eye. "If I stay out I'll have to go find Butch and get permission to remain in the 'real world'—or it will obliterate me." He sighed, leaning out the open window and sucking in a deep breath. "Only with his permission and a little overshadowing can I free myself and anyone else, maybe I'll let Timmy and his godparents out while I get everyone from my world."

"But what about the others? Won't you need to enter imaginations to keep them going?"

"In theory, yes." Danny said, mumbling something about prying Aang out.

Natalie trembled, "But...but..."

"But what?"

"What will happen to the fandom?"

Danny laughed. "I am absolutely positive it will live on, They don't need me to continue anymore. Besides, with my abilities I can read fictions and ideas, and those who need inspiration or help getting me in character it will only take a bit of phasing and net surfing to reach them—I can help be an inspiration to all of those who write, draw, or create for my world."

Natalie shifted, "You said everyone from your world—even the ghosts?"

Danny clapped pointedly. "Quick. Yes, even them, but don't worry, I'll make sure they're good. Your world won't even be aware they're here, there are places we can all go and survive, be rowdy, and no one will be the wiser. I'm not the first of my kind to do this, I've heard stories.

"We'll all head to the North Pole, or the South Pole, it doesn't matter to us. Some might go to the other side of the moon (the one not viewed by Earth) I heard there was a holding in the heart of the moon where a few of us can go."

"But why take everyone? Even if you do, what are you going to do about food? And heat? And water? Or oxygen? Or—"

"Please remember we are originally _cartoons_, we don't need any of that stuff. And if I don't take everyone they'll all die. Some already have—minor characters, Mikey and Lester, quite a few 'unnamed' from my world, both human and ghost. Cujo, I'm estimating, has only days, weeks tops."

"Oh..." Natalie cocked her head to the side, "Then how come you're not trying to go find Mr. Hartman yet? If it'll help you to survive--and Cujo, you should be gone!"

Danny beamed, "Yes! I knew you had a mind behind all of that Sue-fantasy! The thing is, I came from your computer and I'm currently able to physically hold myself here because of your imagination. I stay only for as long as I can keep you believing I'm here—until I get permission to stay for good. I know for a fact people are so easily distracted...apparently the best way for me to survive is to constantly have you reminded of my being here."

Natalie's jaw had never dropped so far as the time when Danny held out a hand to her. "I hope you don't get airsick, we're going to be going very fast very high."

He transformed and took off invisibly and intangibly into the open air, the only sign of him passing would be the excited fan-girly _squee_ from his passenger.

What a joy it was to fly. It was really too bad he had lied to her about needing only her imagination...what, you didn't know? In order to permanently move from the plain of imaginary to the plain of real, you need a sacrifice. One death for the safety of many, Natalie would be a hero.

~Danny

p.s. Sorry for the blood on your daughters' floor, desk, and chair. Rest assured it is not hers.

* * *

I stopped typing on the computer, turning in my chair for the first time to really study the girl whom I had intruded on. I smiled fondly; she was young, maybe sixteen, seventeen. Most likely a good writer, even if she did write in a Sue-ish way. I had to admit to myself at times that I, too, was a dreaded Sue. I just have credit.

"I really _am_ dying, Nat." I said conversationally.

* * *

**In reading this more than once, you may notice some of the things Danny said doesn't match up. Rest assured, that was intended.**

**~Catalyst**


End file.
